


Stay Gold

by detour



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 20:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11342601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detour/pseuds/detour
Summary: As far as golden retrievers go, Steve is kind of a jerk. He may look adorable and friendly, with soft yellow fur and earnest brown eyes, but it's all for show.Bucky reluctantly takes his dog to the park.





	Stay Gold

As far as golden retrievers go, Steve is kind of a jerk. He may look adorable and friendly, with soft yellow fur and earnest brown eyes, but it's all for show. 

He's a duplicitous little son of a bitch. Literally. 

But this little shit and his oversized furry paws have grown on Bucky, making sure he gets up in the morning (to let him out) and paces at the bottom of the stairs until he goes to bed at a decent time.  

Right now, Steve is whining around the oversized softball hanging out of his mouth. He's desperate for a game of catch, for a chance to run with the wind in his fur. There's something ridiculous and noble when Steve runs flat out, ears flapping around as Steve does his best impression of a horse.  

"Alright then," Bucky says, levering himself off the couch to take pity on the dog. It was so much easier with people who understand what fuck off means. Unlike Steve, who just looks at him with his stupid head cocked to the side until Bucky does what he wants. 

Steve dances ahead of Bucky, impatiently waiting for him to slide on his boots so they can both head outside. It's hard to clip Steve's leash onto his red-white-and-blue collar one handed, but Bucky manages. Steve gives him a dirty look when he tries to take the lead outside the townhouse and gets cut short by the lead.  

Bucky resists the urge to flip off a fucking dog who isn't even looking at him anymore, and lets Steve dance his way down the sidewalk towards the park. 

The dog is just so happy, people watch him and smile. It's the worst. Then they'll turn that look onto Bucky, because he's been blessed by this furry little angel, and the smile invariably slips when they take him in. He's about the furthest thing from the pastel chinos and boat shoes douchebag they expect to be on the other end of Steve's lead. 

They get to the park and Steve immediately drops the ball outside the gate to the off-leash park, panting happily. 

He sits for a second when Bucky tells him to, but his eager butt jumps right back up when Bucky goes to unlatch the gate. 

"Stop it," Bucky tells him, shoving the leash up around his forearm before he goes to grab the ball for the dog. Steve grabs it first, like it's a game, but it means Bucky has his hand free to open the gate so he'll take it. 

Steve dances through, barely waiting for Bucky to close it again before he's straining forward against the lead. 

"Stop, sit, wait," Bucky says, and miraculously, Steve does. Kind of. He lays down instead of sitting, big brush of a tail sweeping the grass in his excitement. 

Bucky unhooks the leash and coils it up to go in the side of his cargo pants. Hand free, he goes to pick up Steve's ball from where it lies between his paws. He doesn't get a chance, because Steve digs at it with his mouth and darts away. It's always a game. 

"Whatever," Bucky says, and heads further into the park, away from the other people and their dogs. Steve must greet a few of them on their way through, but he's always been more interested in people than in other dogs. There are no smaller breeds here today, tiny furry bullies that Steve doesn't hesitate to tell off despite their difference in size. It's one of the few occasions Steve finds a bark deep within himself.   

They end up in a clear spot near a hill. Steve drops his ball in Bucky's direction when they're in a space he approves of, and Bucky winds back to throw it. 

The ball goes far, nearly to the edge of trees by the running path that winds through the park. Steve bounds merrily after it. 

Once he reaches it, he lays down in the grass with that dumbass dog grin on his face. 

"Oh come on," Bucky says, because this always happens. Steve loves the idea of fetch more than the actual exercise. He doesn't understand he has to retrieve the ball to earn his name, and Bucky has to go get him every. single. time.  

Bucky lopes over, eyes holding steady on Steve. When he's close enough to either grab the ball or Steve's collar, Steve picks up the ball and darts away. 

"Steve, come here," Bucky says, and gives chase. He barely notices the big blond that's stopped on the running path to watch him run after his stupid dog. 

Steve notices the guy at about the same time and changes direction, ball still hanging out of his mouth. 

"He's friendly," Bucky calls out belatedly, because the blond is kneeling in front of Steve with his hands buried in soft fur around Steve's ears. 

"I see that," the guy says, looking up at Bucky with a smile. It doesn't slip when he takes in Bucky with his flannel and skinny jeans and the stupid Blundstone boots he's had since he was in college and the missing arm. 

Holy shit, Bucky thinks, and notices him back. He's fucking hot. 

Steve takes advantage of the guy's distraction and licks him right on the mouth. 

"Oh, shit, sorry," Bucky says, and steps forward to grab onto Steve's stupid American flag collar. The guy stands up at the same time so Bucky's face ends up awkwardly close to the guy's pecs with barely a dog between them. 

"Like you said, he's friendly," the guy says. "But I have to ask, how'd you know?" 

Taking a step back, Bucky lets go of Steve's collar. The dog flops down contentedly, ball held between his paws. "He's a golden, they're apparently like that." 

"No, I mean, me," the guy says, gesturing at the running trail he'd abandoned. 

Bucky startles, but thankfully does not blurt out something about really good gaydar. "Sorry, I was calling my dog, didn't mean to give you the wrong idea."

"Your dog," the guy says, and looks down at Steve to clarify.  

"Meet Steve." Bucky gestures to the dog in question. "Steve, shake a paw." 

The guy snorts, but obediently kneels when Steve lazily lifts a paw to him. Steve, the traitor, doesn't even care that the jogger is within a hand's reach of his ball.  

"Nice to meet you Steve," the guy says. He gets back to his feet and holds his hand out to Bucky. "I'm also Steve." 

"Oh, shit," Bucky says, already shaking the hot guy—Steve's hand. 

"So I heard here Steve, here boy," Steve says. He doesn't let go of Bucky's hand. "And I was gonna applaud you on a really effective pickup line." 

"Well." Bucky looks down at dog Steve, and he'd swear that little shit winks at him. "I did get the dog to pick up guys." 


End file.
